


You've Been Hurting For a Long Time

by Maren_Emilie



Series: Fantastic Beasts One-Shots [4]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Hopeful Ending, Hurt Newt Scamander, Hurt Theseus Scamander, Isolation, It has a good ending I swear, Loneliness, Loss, Mental Illness, Newt Scamander Needs a Hug, Newt deals with trauma, Post-Movie 1: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, Post-Movie 2: Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, Sad Newt Scamander, Survivor Guilt, Theseus Scamander Needs a Hug, Theseus Scamander is a Good Sibling, Trauma, and trauma, just a little, minimal dialogue, normal responses to trauma and stuff, the entire ocean actually, water as a metaphor for anxiety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-18 04:07:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28736973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maren_Emilie/pseuds/Maren_Emilie
Summary: Some days, when he sees someone on the street that looks just a little too like Graves, that makes his blood run cold. He’s quick to apparate home then, trembling hands trying desperately to open the front door until he remembers that the door is locked, and he’ll pull out his wand and wordlessly unlock it, slamming the door shut behind him. He stumbles into the flat, breathing so fast he feels light-headed. That he might pass out right then and there.And the panicked feeling of; “This is it. He’s going to die. He’s going to die. He’s going to—”Newt rides it out on the floor of his empty London flat, with only Pickett as company who chirps at him with concern, unable to do much to help him.
Relationships: Leta Lestrange & Newt Scamander, Newt Scamander & Theseus Scamander, Tina Goldstein & Newt Scamander
Series: Fantastic Beasts One-Shots [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1572046
Comments: 5
Kudos: 30





	You've Been Hurting For a Long Time

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a while since I've written for this fandom now oof. I haven't really had much motivation to write anything lately. Not gonna lie, gamers. I'm not doing the best in this paralellogram, but I'm looking at getting some help soon so y'all don't need to worry about me.
> 
> Did I write Newt's anxiety by taking from my own feelings? yes. Did I kinda self-project? Probably.
> 
> Anyway This has been in my drafts since July and I finally found the motivation to finish it.

It’s a testament to how lonely he really is that he doesn’t even notice it until he’s alone again. New York had been an adventure he’d not forget any time soon. He’d spent a little under two weeks in the city, and yet it had made a larger impact on him than any place he’d ever been. And he had been all over the world.

As the boat had made its way to London Newt spent his time taking care of the creatures in his case. He’d kept himself busy as the journey had dragged on.

Theseus greets him at the docks. He welcomes him home with a tight hug and a pat on the back. He takes him home and they eat dinner together. He wants Newt to be his best man at his and Leta’s wedding. He tells him he’s proud of him and wishes him good luck on the book. Then he leaves for the night.

And suddenly Newt is alone again.

He gets to work on his book, looking through his countless notebooks full of scribbles and messily written notes. Months and months worth of research. He spends hours upon hours every day. 

When he’s not writing he takes care of his creatures. Feeding them, treating their injuries, and studying them.

At night, when every time he closes his eyes all he sees are the malicious eyes of Percival Graves as Newt writhes pathetically down on the train tracks - every part of his body screaming in pain - he stares up at the white ceiling of his bedroom. Heart pounding in his chest.

It’s when it’s pitch black outside and the silence in his flat is so quiet his ears almost start ringing that he feels it the most. The pressure pushing down at his chest, making it hard to breathe. The ache in his heart. The one that doesn’t ever quite go away, but had lessened in New York - and then gets even worse at nights like these.

The crippling loneliness.

Suddenly his creatures aren’t quite enough. It’s not quite the same, and now that he’s had it, losing it had been so hard.

He falls asleep after what feels like an eternity, and wakes up the next morning with the sun shining in through his curtains, and dry tear-tracks on his face. He doesn’t dwell on it for long. He has a basement full of magical creatures that needs taking care of.

He puts it in a small box and stores it away for later. (But later doesn’t come. It never does.)

Theseus talks to him at the Ministry. Asks him how the book is coming along and makes all kinds of small talk that Newt hates. He invites him to have dinner with him and Leta, but Newt declines. 

Every time.

(When he gets home again, to his quiet, empty flat, he wonders why he did it. He never has a good answer. He can’t even remember why he started saying no in the first place.)

Sometimes, when Theseus is talking to him - about the most casual of things - he’ll zone out. The world around him disappears entirely as he stares blankly forward, a faraway look. Theseus will stop talking, and when he comes to again he hears the snapping of fingers, and he sees Theseus’ concerned face in front of him. 

They never talk about it, but the older Scamander brother gives him worried glances at him from time to time. Like he wants to say something, but isn’t sure how - or even if he should.

Part of him wishes he would. (Just push a little harder. Prod a little more. And maybe then Newt would finally break apart and tell him everything.)

(“Newt,” her voice rings out from the other side of the door. “Why don’t you come out? You’ve been holed up in your room for days.”

Newt stares at the floor, lips pressed into a thin line. He’s sat against the wall next to the door, knees drawn up to his chest. Around him, his bedroom is an untidy mess, more so than usually. The curtains are drawn, blocking most of the sunlight out.

Leta sighs. “We’re worried about you.”

Newt looks up then, eyeing the door. “We?” he asks, voice hoarse and quiet after so long of not using it.

“Yes, we,” she says. “Theseus is your brother, and I’m your friend. Of course we worry about you.”

Newt lets out a shuddering breath, blinking away the stinging sensation in his eyes. He doesn’t say anything, but he’s sure if he did his voice would crack.

He hears Leta sigh. “Just… We care about you, Newt. I don't know what happened in New York, but it must have been bad. We just want to be there for you.”)

Some days, when he sees someone on the street that looks just a little too like Graves, that makes his blood run cold. He’s quick to apparate home then, trembling hands trying desperately to open the front door until he remembers that the door is locked, and he’ll pull out his wand and wordlessly unlock it, slamming the door shut behind him. He stumbles into the flat, breathing so fast he feels light-headed. That he might pass out right then and there.

And the panicked feeling of; “This is it. He’s going to die. He’s going to die. He’s going to—”

Newt rides it out on the floor of his empty London flat, with only Pickett as company who chirps at him with concern, unable to do much to help him.

(Logically, he knows that Grindelwald is locked away at MACUSA. That there’s no way he could be in London of all places. Especially not disguised as Graves again. That would be foolish of him.)

Newt can only describe it as if he's swimming in deep, freezing water, barely able to keep his head above the surface. He gasps for air that never quite reaches his lungs, unable to call for help. And just when he thinks he might have found his footing, a new wave rolls over him, pulling him back under. 

At times he's worried his body might give out to the exhaustion, and he'll succumb to the dark depths of the sea where no one can help him. (Or maybe he’s already there and he just can’t tell.)

It gets better after he receives the first letter from Tina. It says so little, but so much at the same time. He’s quick to write her back. It makes the feeling of loneliness - the loneliness that’s taken such hold of him that it never quite leaves - lessen slightly. 

It’s like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. He smiles for what feels like the first time in forever. It feels good. He’s not quite so alone anymore. Tina is his friend. (The water doesn’t feel quite so bottomless now.)

He wants to go back to New York, but it's rather difficult when he's got an International Travel Ban hanging over his head. He tries to appeal it multiple times, but he's never successful, even with Theseus' help and influence.

He sees Tina’s picture in the paper. Pride swells in his chest, warming his entire being. His heart flutters in his chest when he looks at it. MACUSA is lucky to have her with them.

He’s disappointed to see that the picture doesn’t give the full effect as seeing her in person does. He cuts it out anyway, and keeps it in his case where he can see it. (He’ll see her again in person, he tells himself.)

Theseus does his best to talk to him. (He’s insistent on dinner, even though he knows Newt won’t accept. It’s almost as if he’s on autopilot.) It almost feels like he’s walking on glass around Newt at times, but it still doesn’t mean they get along all the time. They argue. Usually about Aurors. It never gets too heated - Theseus always seems to know when to stop - but it can sour his mood for the rest of the day. (Newt actively avoids him the next day.)

He finishes the book, and he sends it to his publisher. It’s not too long until it’s out. Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. Theseus and Leta come with him to the book signing at Flourish and Blotts. Leta doesn't seem to be angry with him for not coming to dinner, but Newt has never been good at reading people. Still, it’s a bit of a relief that they’re there. (Theseus has always been a people pleaser, and he basks in the attention as Newt practically cowers behind the desk.)

He meets Bunty, an enthusiastic woman who shares a love for beasts only rivaled with his own. He decides he quite likes her, and she’s more than willing to become his assistant and help him take care of the creatures he has. With the book money Newt finds he can afford it, and decides to hire her.

The rest of the day goes by in a jiffy, and before he knows it he’s back in his quiet, empty flat. But it’s not as bad as before. (It’s as if the water is getting shallower.)

He waits for Tina’s next letter. He’s ecstatic to hear from her again. Even if he can’t keep his promise and deliver the book to her in person. Still, he keeps a copy for her hidden away for when he eventually can.

Tina’s letter never comes.

The weeks drag on, but not as much as an owl pecks at his window.

(She must have finally had enough of him, he thinks. He must have annoyed her too much. Written something he shouldn’t have. Said something wrong, like he always seem to do.)

(Maybe Newt Scamander just wasn’t meant to have friends after all.)

Still, he holds out hope for her. That it isn’t like that. That it’s not his fault. Something else just got in the way. But the emptiness in his heart, that had ever so slowly started to heal again, grows. (The water around him rises.)

Life goes on. He still can’t get his travel ban appealed. Bunty is nice company when she comes, but it’s just as lonely in his flat when she leaves again. It’s better than it was though, and it eventually fades a little into the background. Never quite forgotten, but never fully present either. 

It gets easier to breathe, he finds. The rainy days of England don't seem as bleak and dreary anymore. It gets better. (It’s not quite as empty anymore.)

Paris happens. Leta dies, and Queenie joins Grindelwald. And all the things he thought he had left behind in New York comes rushing back. Just when he thought he might be healing.

It feels like he’s drowning all over again. The waves crash into him with more force than ever and Newt can’t breathe. It feels like there are ankors tied to him, or that he’s suddenly forgotten how to swim.

It’s easy to shit himself in. Isolate from the rest of the world. From everything and everyone. He doesn’t leave his flat. He skips meals. Some days he sleeps the day away and others he doesn’t sleep at all. He stays away when Bunty comes. He never quite knows when the next time he’s going to burst into tears or have a panic attack might be - and he doesn’t want Bunty’s concern - so he doesn’t take any chances.

(It should have been him.)

Newt is not used to being angry so when he first notices it, he’s scared. He finds that he’s angry at Grindelwald. At the Ministry. At Queenie. At everyone, even himself. 

He’s not himself anymore, and he’s not sure if he ever will be again. (He will, but it will take time.)

At night he dreams of Grindelwald and Graves. He tosses and turns until he wakes with a yell on his lips. The nightmares are bad. Sometimes it’s just Grindelwald, other times they involve his Tina, and Jacob, and Queenie, and Theseus. Other nights the nightmares don’t even have anything to do with Paris or New York.

But some nights the dreams are pleasant. About him and Leta. Sometimes at Hogwarts. Sometimes not. He misses her.

(“You should come out,” she says, then after a pause, “I know you’re listening, Newt. You should talk to him.”

Newt closes his eyes and leans his head back against the wall.

“I know you’re hurting… but so is he. He needs you just as much as you need him right now. You don’t have to go through this alone, Newt.”

He looks at the door separating them. 

“You’re the most important people in my life, and I hate to see you suffering like this. Just—” She pauses for a second. “Just let us in, Newt. Please.”

A beat. 

“I love you, you know.”

Newt stands up. He takes a shaky breath and goes to the door. He swallows thickly, hand hovering over the door handle. Leta remains silent, as if she’s expectantly waiting for him.

He opens the door.

And then he wakes up.)

Time goes on.

The cold winter air dances around him. Newt buries himself further into the coat. His shoulders are stiff as he walks the streets. Pickett chirps softly from his breast pocket.

He stops in front of Theseus’ door. He finds himself hesitating. This is the first time he’s been outside - properly outside - in weeks. It had all been on a whim. He hadn’t planned on going out today, and now he finds that he regrets it. 

He had gotten a quick look in the mirror as he threw on his coat and scarf. He’s a mess. Messy hair, dark circles under his eyes, ghostly pale skin, and sunken cheeks. He had barely recognised himself where he stood. Surely Theseus can wait another day. He can come back sometime else, when he’s not so disheveled.

Pickett chirps at him and Newt shakes his head.

‘Worrying means you suffer twice,’ he tells himself. A motto he hasn’t lived by in a while now. Something he hasn’t thought about in ages.

With a shaking hand he moves to ring the buzzer.

The door opens.

Newt gasps, breath hitching in the back of his throat as he jumps back in surprise.

“Newt—?” Theseus looks equally surprised to see him there, looking him down with wide eyes.

The older Scamander doesn’t look much better than Newt. He’s pale too, his normally pale freckles a stark contrast to his light skin. His hair is disheveled, like his, and he’s not wearing a suit like he usually does. It takes Newt by surprise.

They stare at each other in silence.

Then theseus clears his throat, looking him directly in the eyes. Newt wants to look away, but finds himself unable to. “Newt, what are you doing here? I haven’t seen you in weeks—”

Newt opens his mouth to answer, but he chokes over the sound, a wet sob passes through his lips. He blinks away tears. “I— I’m—”

Theseus sighs sadly. “Oh Newt,” he says softly before he pulls Newt into his arms. He rubs his back soothingly as the younger Scamander sobs into his shoulder, gasping for breath between each one as his body shakes as they rack his body. “I know, I know.”

“I’m— I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner. I—”

“It’s alright, Newt,” Theseus murmurs to him. “You’ve been hurting for a long time.”

They stand there for a while, taking comfort in each other’s presence, until Newt’s sobs subside to shuddering breaths and sniffles.

“I miss her.”

Theseus swallows thickly. “Me too,” he replies, voice thick with emotion and eyes filled with unshed tears. “Me too.”

The ocean splashes at his feat, but it’s alright. Newt knows how to swim now.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Feel free to give kudos and leave a comment! It's much appreciated!
> 
> Follow me on my socials:  
> Wattpad - maren-emilie  
> Tumblr - frunbuns.tumblr.com / maren-emilie.tumblr.com  
> Twitter - @frunbuns / @marenemilie03  
> Instagram - @marencantdraw


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